


Forever Yours [[discontinued]]

by hunnybabez



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Domestic Violence, M/M, Physical Abuse, tags will be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:31:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunnybabez/pseuds/hunnybabez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After John graduates high school, he flees to Texas to get away from his abusive ex. After nearly 10 years of being free from him, he comes back, taking him away from the love of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

~~~~You managed to ignore him for years.

As soon as high school ended, you fled from Washington to Texas. Although you’d miss your father, and you do, it was for the best. For college, yes, but mostly for your own safety. That’s for reasons that will be mentioned later.

In your first year of college, in a class you can’t remember, you sat by a certain blond. Neither of you remember the class, since you were talking to each other during the whole of it. Afterward, you exchanged phone-numbers. But, really, it was easy to see him. He went to the same college, after all – you two were even in the same dorm. Not roommates, no, but you could easily see each other. And you did. A lot.

By the second year, you two managed to be roommates.

By the third, you ended up dating.

And by the fourth, you’d both already had sex with each other plenty of times.

After college ended, you decided to live with each other. Funnily, it wasn’t even discussed, but assumed by the both of you. Either way, you were living together as boyfriends for three years. In total, you’d been dating for six when Dave proposed to you. You were (and are!) 24 years old at the time.

That was three months ago.

But around one month ago, you got a call. And, god, you’d know that voice from anywhere.

“I’m comin’ for you, baby.”

You tried to ignore it. You did. But more calls kept coming. Calls, texts, warnings.

Eventually it got to the point where they were coming at least three times a week. It scared you, yes – but it also confused you. Mostly because, what was he going to do? How did he get your phone number, your email? You wanted to find out, you did, but at the same time you didn’t. But, really, you wished you had the gut to tell Dave about him.

And by him, you mean Gamzee Makara.

And by Gamzee Makara, you mean your abusive ex-boyfriend.

It was high school. You were both juniors. He was, well… different. His hair was unruly and blonde, and his eyes were blue, so blue they nearly looked purple. He wore black and white clown-looking make up, and everyone was 99.9% sure he was always high (you have more than enough evidence to prove that statement).

He always hung out behind the building after school. And, well, in short, you were bullied in high school. They were following you – really, you just wanted to get away. So you walked fast, but they walked faster, and eventually got a hold of you, pushing you against the wall. One of them threw a punch; it hurt, yes, and you expected more, but none came. When you opened your eyes (when had they closed?), Gamzee was there. Despite his tall, skinny appearance, he’s a lot stronger than he looks. And here you were, standing against a wall in shock as Gamzee pulled the guy off of you and threw him to the ground, his foot on his chest.

“If you ever,” He started. “Touch this motherfuckin’ boy again,”

The one on the ground grabbed Gamzee’s foot tried pulling It off, to no avail. All the others had run off.

“I will end you. Are we motherfuckin’ clear?”

After they nodded frantically, the blonde took his foot off of the poor boy. Then they got up, and ran. Gamzee looked at you with those eyes, those stupid, beautiful eyes, and smiled.

“You ok, Egbro?”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I’m.. yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

A couple months later, you ended up dating all the way into senior year. But it was fading, at least, for you. You didn’t have feelings for him anymore, even though he did. You tried to break up with him as gently as possible. You called him, since you don’t think you’d be able to face him. Dad was at work. You remember the conversation word by word.

“Hey, Egbro! How’s it hangin’?” He said, clearly in a good mood. This only twisted your gut farther.

“Hey, Gamzee. Listen, I need to tell you something.”

“Throw it at me, brotha’.”

“I think we should split up.”

Silence.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re a really great person, but I just don’t have feelings for you anymore! Feelings like that, at the least. I’m really sorry, Gamzee.”

More silence.

“Gamzee?”

You heard a click and the phone hung up. So, sighing, you laid back on your bed and stared at the ceiling for a couple minutes.

Or maybe more.

In fact, you ended up falling asleep. And you only woke up because the door opened, downstairs. This confused you, because your father wasn’t due for coming home for at least another four hours. Upon checking the clock, you were wrong. Five. So you yell out “Coming!” and trot down the stairs, opening the door. When you do, you freeze. It’s Gamzee. His face-paint was messed up and running, he seems to be crying. And, god, it made you feel horrible. But he didn’t look upset – he just looked angry. So, a bit shocked, you manage to choke out,

“Gamzee?”

He came in without warning, and you whip around to look at him.

“Do you have any motherfuckin’ idea how much you hurt me, John?”

You realized that he’s never called you John before.

“N, no, I said that I was sorry—“

Your voice was cut off by him pining you to the wall. All you managed to do is stare at him, not being able to breathe with his hands on your throat. He kneed you in the stomach, making you let out a pained cry. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground and being kicked at, but faintly, you heard words in between the kicks.

“I’m gonna-“

Kick.

“motherfuckin’”

Kick.

“hurt you-“

Kick.

“like you-“

Kick.

“hurt me.”

By that you were sure you were crying. He stopped for a few blessed moments and kneeled down next to you, holding you tightly in his arms. You tried to struggle, but he was too strong, holding onto your arms so tightly they bruised.

“Where’s my motherfuckin’ apology, John?”

You coughed. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Gamzee, I’ll, I’ll never do it again—“

He pounded his fist into your stomach. You cried. “Good. Now we’re still motherfuckin’ together, are we clear?”

“Yes, Gamzee, we’re still together!” You didn’t realize you were screaming.

“Good.” He stands up, looking down at you. “Now, we’re gonna go on a motherfuckin’ date, hear me? Dress nice. I’ll be waiting.”

You scrambled up and ran upstairs, making yourself look presentable.

-

To be perfectly honest, you thought you were done with Gamzee. Despite the calls and messages you got two months after Dave proposed, you somehow convinced yourself that everything was going to be okay. Well, not really. You knew that it wouldn’t be okay, but you tried to believe. It was more so like hope. You had hope, too much hope. But all of it was gone when Dave yelled;

“John, someone’s here to see you!” and suddenly, Gamzee was in your home.

You freeze as soon as you see him. He looks taller, stronger, but other than that, the same as he did when you last saw him. Your gut twisted at the sight of him. Then you hear his voice.

“’Scuse me, Mr…”

He’s looking at your fiancé.

“Dave Strider,” Dave says, not really affected by his appearance. Not as much as you.

“Ah. Well it’s a mighty motherfuckin’ pleasure to meet you, Dave.”

They shake hands. “And who’re you?”

“Gamzee Makara.”

“Ah. Well, it’s nice to meet you to, Gamzee.”

There’s a short silence, then Gamzee looks at Dave. “D’yu live in the same house as Egbro?”

You haven’t heard that nickname in a long, long time. You hate it. “Or are you just visiting?”

Dave snorts. You know what he’s about to say.

“He’s my fiancé.” There’s another silence.

“S’that so? Well, I hope you excuse us, but me ‘n John need to have a motherfuckin’ talk.”

He doesn’t look angry. Dave just shrugs and nods.

“Aight.”

Your fiancé leaves the room and you almost reach out and scream no, don’t leave me here, not with him, please, but it’s too late. As soon as Dave is out of the room, Gamzee grabs you by your throat. Out of instinct, you try to choke up an apology.

“Don’t give me none o’ that motherfuckin’ sorry shit, Egbro. You motherfuckin’ lied to me-”

You’ve already started crying.

“-and I swear to motherfuckin’ god, if you don’t go along with this, I’ll kill you and your fiancé.”

You’re confused, but mostly scared. You don’t have the gut to think about this right now. Then he lets go of you, and hisses a whisper in your ear;

“Clean up.”

You wipe your eyes as soon as you snap out of a shock and then he’s whispering to you again.

“Call ‘im in.”

“Dave!” You yell. Your voice cracks. He elbows you in the side for that, hard. Then Dave walks back in, arms crossed.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Sorry to say, Dave,” Gamzee puts his arm around you. You flinch, but you’re sure no one saw. “John’s been lying to you.”

Dave eyes his arm and then looks at you, looking confused, but a bit angry. He’s looking at you when he speaks.

“Lying, how?

“He’s motherfuckin’ cheating on you.”

You know he doesn’t believe it, and the look on his face just confirms it. “With who?”

“Me.” There’s a longer silence than the ones before, and Dave looks at you this time. Gamzee reaches down and holds your hand.

“S’this true, John?”

“Yes.” You think you said that a little too fast. Really, you want to tell him that it isn’t true, that Gamzee is going to hurt you, that he already is. He’s hurting your hand so tight it might break – and, really, you hope it does. You hope it breaks so you can scream and cry and let Dave know without actually saying it that you’re in danger. But it doesn’t. “How long?” He looks upset, and you can’t help but think that this is your fault. But when you’re about to speak up, Gamzee does for you.

“Four years.”

Every time he speaks, you flinch.

Dave’s expression turns from upset to angry.

“Four years,” He repeats. “Four fucking years. That’s only two less than we’ve been together, and, and—“

He stops talking for a moment. Gamzee just stands there.

“-and you still said yes?”

“Dave, I-“

“No, John. “ He interrupts you. “Out.” He points to the door. Tears well up in your eyes but before you can even think of something to say, Gamzee is pulling you out of the door. You want to pull back, oh, you do, but you can’t. He’s too strong and you won’t risk your life, nevertheless Dave’s life. Gamzee shoves you into the passengers’ seat of his car and you buckle yourself up immediately, whilst he gets in the driver’s seat and starts driving.

His car reeks of drugs.


	2. Chapter 2

You wake up with a pounding head - you don’t bother opening your eyes just yet, you’re too tired, much too tired. So you roll over (you’re in your bed, of course) and nuzzle your head into Dave’s side. Something is... different, but you can’t really tell. You’re too tired, and your head hurts too much. The other puts his arm around you, fingers running through your hair. You murmur,

 “Do we have ibuprofen? My head hurts.”

 “Nope, don’t think so. But we can run to the motherfuckin’ store and get some.”

 Oh. 

You wriggle your way out of Gamzee’s grasp and manage to sit up, staring at the other with wide, shocked eyes. You don’t know how you managed to forget the previous night. But you’re feeling so many emotions, too many emotions. You can’t move, you’re frozen. You’re shaking, you know that for sure, and tears are flooding your eyes. You want to scream, scream for Dave, but you can’t speak. Gamzee sighs a bit and gets out of bed - and suddenly, you aren’t in it anymore, you’re in his arms, he’s carrying you. 

You remember the times Dave picked you up out of bed when you refused to get out of it. But this was different.

 As soon as the other puts you down, you’re looking around frantically, searching for a door or a phone. The first thing you see is a door, so you run.

But he grabs you, pushing you against the wall and staring at you with harsh eyes.

 “Don’t you motherfuckin’ dare.”

All you do is whimper. For a couple moments, he just stares at you, and you think he’s gonna hit you but he doesn’t. He just lets you go. You’re grateful, really. And you want to try to escape again, but you know he won’t let you. So you stay put, watching him eat - you think you’re scared of asking him for something, and there’s also the chance that his food is drugged. And you + drugs _really_  isn’t a good combination. You know this because, hell, you’ve been in college. But that’s another story.

Once he’s done eating, he takes your wrist and drags you to the bedroom you were in before.

“Now, here’s what we’re gonna motherfuckin’ do. We’re gonna get dressed, then we’re going to the motherfuckin’ store and get some headache pills. Are we motherfuckin’ clear?”

“Yes, Gamzee.” You squeak. You absolutely hate how much he swears.

When he starts getting dressed, you just put on the clothes you were wearing yesterday. Jeans and a t-shirt. You had on a sweater, too, but you can’t wear it yet. 

This is because said sweater is Dave’s.

-

As soon as you get to the previously mentioned store, Gamzee holds your hand tight, tight like he did in highschool. Probably because he thinks you’d run away. Which, well, you would. You’d jump at the first chance to run, sprinting out of there as fast as possible. But his grip is too strong, and you know far better than that, even though you would still try. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the blond’s (you hate how his hair is the same color as Dave’s) voice, telling you to pick out the correct pills. And you do - it’s just ibuprofen. You always kept it in your previous home. But you’re trying hard not to think about it, but it’s hard, especially when the apartment itself is so close to the drug store. Once again, you snap out of your daze and realize that you’re in the parking lot, walking to his car. So you get in when you get there, since there’s not anything other to do.

Then you drive home. But it’s not really home - at least, not for you.

-

You didn’t sleep last night. How could you? He betrayed you, he lied, he convinced you that he was in love. By him, you mean John. John Egbert, the so thought love of your life. You loved him, you trusted him, you really did. No, you still love him, but you wouldn’t be able to trust him anymore.

Oh, right. Your name is Dave Strider, and you are _pissed_.

But also upset and lonely.

You have been, ever since John left yesterday night.

You want to try to work it out. You want to text him on Pesterchum and type ‘hey dude, i forgive you, lets get back together’ but it doesn’t work that way. He had a choice to stay, you think. And he didn’t take it. Besides, you can’t forgive him. Or, at least, not for a long, long time. But you don’t know what else to do.

So you text your sister instead.

DAVE: hey

DAVE: rose

DAVE: rose

DAVE: rose

DAVE: what team

ROSE: Wildcats.

ROSE: Why are you messaging me at this hour?

You look at the clock. It reads 12:07AM. You hadn’t noticed it was already that late.

DAVE: iunno

DAVE: havent been outside

DAVE: couldnt tell

ROSE: Shouldn’t you be slamming your fiancé into the mattress?

DAVE: haha

DAVE: funny

ROSE: Thank you, I appreciate that you notice my efforts. But, really, why are you messaging me? It must be something important, usually you wouldn’t bother for just a conversation.

DAVE: yeah rose thats it

DAVE: something important

ROSE: Then say it, if you can.

DAVE: okay

DAVE: well

DAVE: about my fiancé

ROSE: Oh no.

DAVE: he cheated

You bury your head into your arms and yawn. For a couple minutes you think she won’t reply, but then your phone alerts you of a new message.

ROSE: With?

DAVE: some dude

DAVE: blond hair

DAVE: real curly or maybe just unruly

DAVE: probably both

DAVE: juggalo face paint

ROSE: Hm. Never heard of him.

DAVE: didnt expect you to

ROSE: Do you know how, though? As in, was it just a one-night thing?

DAVE: 4

ROSE: Four?

ROSE: Four... weeks?

You don’t reply.

ROSE: Months?

Still none.

ROSE: Years?

DAVE: yeah

ROSE: Oh.

ROSE: I should’ve known.

DAVE: are you telling me you got hints

ROSE: No, actually.

ROSE: I’m telling you that I couldn’t tell at all.

ROSE: It seems absolutely improbable.

DAVE: well it happened

DAVE: anyway

DAVE: got any advice

DAVE: how to move on

DAVE: i dont know

ROSE: Take this as advice, dearest brother.

ROSE: Do your research.

DAVE: what

DAVE: rose

DAVE: rose goddammit

She doesn’t reply after that.

The words linger in your head as if she’d said them herself, just now, in front of you. What did she mean? Of course, you knew what she meant. Do your research, Dave. Find out who this guy is. But you didn’t want to. First of all, you didn’t even have a goddamn name- he probably hasn’t ever done anything bad in the first place.

Either way, John cheated. John was stupid. John was at blame here, not some guy who happened to fall for him too. Who couldn’t? His ivory skin, beautiful blue eyes, wavy, soft black hair… his skin is soft, too. You fondly remember all the times you’ve run your fingers over the skin, pressing kisses onto his soft lips and neck, shoulders, running all the way down to his hipbones. And, god, you remember the amazing sex you had, the after-cuddles, the many talks about how much you loved eachother.

And you miss it, you miss him, so, so much.

So much, in fact, that you start to cry, silent tears running down your cheeks.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, you managed to get yourself to sleep after you realized that Rose was not going to answer. She probably went to sleep herself. And, god, most of all, you just want to talk to her. You hate to admit it, but when you get upset, she's the best at comforting you. Making things better. Sometimes, even working them out. You sometimes think she's a miracle worker, but she isn't. She's just your sister.

You text her as soon as you wake up.

DAVE: can i come over  
ROSE: Certainly.  
DAVE: thanks

And you do. You throw on a hoodie and a pair of jeans and get in your car, driving over to her house. As soon as you get there, you're knocking on the door, and a familiar face opens it - this, however, is not your sister. This is her girlfriend, Kanaya. Who is as good as cheering you up as Rose is. She smiles at you.

"Make yourself at home." She steps aside so you can come in.

"Where's Rose?" You feel bad for asking, but you're sure she doesn't mind. 

A sympathetic smile pricks her lips. "She's at the store currently, but if you'd like to talk about this now, I'd be glad to be of assistance." 

They both know you too well.

"I'd like that."

In reply, Kanaya gestures for you to sit down as she goes to the kitchen. You're confused as to why she isn't sitting down next to you right now, but you wait in silence. 

In a couple minutes, you're greeted with a cup of tea.

With a small smile, you sip on it graciously, preparing yourself for any questions she asks.

"I heard about you and John." A pause. "I don't understand."

"Apparently, neither does Rose."

"You and John had always been so loving to each-other.. we were all convinced you were soul-mates. It seems almost uncanny that he'd be unfaithful, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but he was." Your voice is quiet. You try to deny yourself, but you're angry, your fists clenching at Kanaya's words.

"Well... yes, but even so. It just seems so much more likely that he didn't, that something is going on-"

"Fucking christ, Kanaya!" You snap. "Nothing is going on. He cheated. That's the end of it. Stop trying to convince me that he didn't."

She doesn't look shocked at all. All she does is sigh. You do too, and then Rose walks in, setting down groceries on the counter as she sees you. Then looks at you, arms crossed.

"First thing's first, Strider," She starts. You hate when she calls you by your last name. "How did you find out?"

* * *

"Let's go out to eat." You suggest. 

Gamzee grins. "That's what I wanted to hear," and places a kiss to your lips before putting on his coat and walking outside. With you walking next to him, of course.

You don't really want to be anywhere near him. But you think you'd feel safer in public, where there are people who would care and call the police if something happened. That comforts you a lot more than you'd care to admit. 

So you go to a restaurant. It's nothing special, just a breakfast place. And, surprisingly, Gamzee isn't all that bad when he's out in public. He's softer, funnier, nicer. You think that if he was always like this you wouldn't mind as much. But you still hate him, and there's nothing anyone can do to change that.

When your food comes, you don't realize your mouth is watering. It feels like so long since you've eaten a meal, so you start eating it as soon as it isn't as hot as the fiery pits of hell.

Jesus _Christ_.

It's nothing special. Just shitty overly sweet pancakes that you could probably make so much better but that doesn't matter, because you're so hungry and for the first time since Gamzee took you, you're happy. You're laughing and having a conversation with him and he's so kind that it's scaring you, making you feel like the entire restaurant can hear your heartbeat. It's horrifying, really. How nice someone so horrible can be, how wonderfully _stupid_. This whole situation is stupid, you think. Stupid, horrible, frustrating, sad. And you want to do something about it, but you can't.

"I hate you." You think. But you find out that you're actually not thinking when Gamzee goes silent, staring up at you. You look up at him and you're confused at first before you realize that you said that.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said, I hate you." 

You've come to hate your loudmouth.

Gamzee stands, tossing money on the table before grabbing your wrist and taking you outside. You shoot pleading looks to everyone you can, but noone is looking at you, everyone is so calm. You want to scream, you need to scream, but you can't.

You find it funny how in situations where you need to talk, you can't, and then it's the other way around when you shouldn't be talking at all.

"What the fuck," He starts. "What the _fuck_?"

You choke out an apology. He hits you. You cry.

"You stupid fucking-" He groans and hits you again. "Why the hell do you hate me? You're supposed to motherfuckin' love me!"

"Because you're, you're," You start. "You ripped apart the last two years of highschool for me, and then you took me away from my lover, my fiance-" You feel his fist strike your nose and you stumble back, covering you're nose. You don't think it's broken, but you definitely have a bloody nose.

"Shut up!" He screams. " _Shut the fuck up! _"__

You do, though. You're shaking, holding your arms. Sobbing. 

"I- I'm so- orry, I didn't mean it!"

Gamzee sighs. Then smiles that stupid smile, the one that reeled you in from the start.

"It's okay. You were just bein' stupid." 

So you go home, and only stop crying when he yells at you for it.

* * *

"So, if I've got this story right," She starts. "John's been cheating on you for four years with a man wearing clown make up that looks like a drug addict."

"Yeah."

Her browns furrow, and she's giving you the "Are you totally sure?" look but you just stare, looking like you're all knowing.

"That sounds like a fake-ass story." She sighs. You sigh. 

"Well, it's not."

"How do you know?"

"Because John confirmed it, remember?"

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It does to me."

"Well, Dave," Rose said, standing. This usually meant that she takes the last word, she is right and she knows that she is right. "Has it ever occurred to you that you might be wrong?"

You grow silent after this. It's only been a week and a half, so of course you haven't completely moved on much. Really, you haven't moved on at all. But no, that hasn't ever occurred to you, the thought that there could be something else going on here. But you just can't figure it out.

"No."

"Then stop acting like you know this is the case."

You take a deep breath, and close your eyes, just for a couple seconds before opening them again.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Try texting him. Doesn't he always have his phone with him, even inside? I remember you saying something about that."

That's true. He always keeps his phone in his pocket or by the bed. So you nod, getting up yourself and stretching.

"Going home so soon, Dave?" She asks, giving you a small, small smile.

"Yeah. I've got work to do." And suddenly your sister has her arms around you, and, hell, how could you not do the same?

"Good luck. I do hope it isn't what it seems." 

You nod, and then you're out the door, getting out your phone as soon as you're outside, texting him.

DAVE: hey dude  
DAVE: listen  
DAVE: i sure as hell aint forgivin you  
DAVE: but roses tellin me to message you ask what up because according to her it seems almost uncanny that youd cheat  
DAVE: so if there's something up  
DAVE: fess up  
DAVE: now

He doesn't respond for at least ten minutes before you text him again.

DAVE: are you ignoring me  
This number is out of service.  
DAVE: what  
This number is out of service.  
DAVE: fuck you  
This number is out of service.

You grunt and shove your phone back into your pocket, stomping off to your car. You can't believe the nerve of that asshole! ..but even so, you take deep breaths, looking out of the window to Rose and Kanaya's house. For a second, you think about going over there again, but you debate against it and drive off.

Yeah, the 'John didn't cheat' theory is pretty much bullshit now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW DAVE Y DO U HAVE 2 B SO WRONG
> 
> ull find out why johns phone went out of service in the next chapter // ;)


	4. [[DISCONTINUED]]

Jesus CHRIST, I am such a better writer. New fanfics are coming your way. Also, I may be moving accounts.

2016 update  
i dont know if anyone has read this but i found this and thought it was embarrassing how harsh i was lmao   
its actually not that terribly written but i discontinued it because i realized the plot was SO unrealistic especially the beggining  
if anyone has read this would you like to see an updated version with better writing? :? i might consider doing that. leave a comment if u think so

**Author's Note:**

> yeah


End file.
